


Colors and Glimpses

by hokkaido



Category: SHINee, f(x)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:42:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23019508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hokkaido/pseuds/hokkaido
Summary: He found then how dreams are simple with her, how look at her was like reflecting all the magic and possibilities hiding behind a beautiful girl.
Relationships: Choi Minho/Jung Soojung | Krystal
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Colors and Glimpses

A good amount of ink was necessary to paint your face, so she saved for six months to paint part of it on the wall. With crimson on her fingers, she drew red lines between black cats and promised to never forgive him for whatever sin. She did not read the Bible, either Minho - and who cared? Minho read a book of over 800 pages about the human being and thus left no doubt in his mind that he would not need to read any other in the next ten years, which means that the gods can wait. Soojung painted her hair pink once and tried to do ballet, but her feet were too big and she was kind of awkward for the classic middle, which made her cry for two hours in the Minho chest on what the teacher had said, that she had no talent, even in a million years trying. Minho remembers, was on the roof of the apartment in pieces that they were neighbors, and her mother asked him if Soojung was the kind of crazy young girl who wanted to jump of places when something bad happened "Winehouse was suicide, it was not, my son?" He had to hold back laughter. Soojung probably would try to go to the other side just to see how there was. Pure curiosity. Somehow, it seemed to make sense to her mother, it is true, she must understand these metaphors, after all, it was she who put Soojung in the world.

It's nice to think that Soojung heard everything Minho said about her, she said, "your tears, I know them all" and well, it was bizarre. It was like a shadow fading at dawn, burning with the first light of reality. It was good and painful. It was like feeling Soojung every day in its solid-state and literal - so hard to understand. Butterfly clips in her hair that people laughed, calling her a child, her pants up there, as a person of 60 years, corny. They all adored her - it was obvious. They just did not know yet.

Minho then found himself in a very common situation, in which like someone does you a step to becoming obsessive in a withdrawal state. Play in apartment 301 and look for your legs up, stretching from floor to wall, the smell of cinnamon and wild strawberry in the air. Or maybe hear their decadent folk songs in the end times, red wine towards hopelessness bowls. She looked incredibly happy with those songs. "The sorrow becomes milder when you accept it and fight fairly with it. Boredom is not sadness, Minho. They do not understand it today." Sometimes Minho wanted to get his hands on her back and tilts her to him, taking her kisses at sunset, hiding city by the beige curtains while her mother pretended not to know everything, making too much time for making coffee in the kitchen. He thinks that with an incessant repetition, as a preteen silly. She deserves all these stupid and innocent things.

Soojung had seen a film that the main male said he could see his grandmother dead behind of a rainbow - James probably did not mean it when he reported to Celine, but Soojung would not accept another interpretation – when they paid attention, were again in the terrace, she was trying at all costs to make a water rainbow over the sunlight. Minho wondered how she would hide your wings if she would trust him one day to see them. At that point, she smiled, as if reading all his thoughts. He was afraid, but it was adequate. Like anything involving Soojung. They could not see any spirit, which is great. Soojung, on the other hand, seemed disappointed. She did not want to watch Before Sunrise again. (She watched the next week four times and placed on her head that she soon would know the entire poem "Milkshake").

_Daydream delusion_

_limousine Eyelash_

_Oh baby with your pretty face_

After these verses, she did not remember most of the rest in direct order. Soojung seemed brighter trying to remember things like that. She was even best to completely forget things that did not interest her. A child's personality, probably living more than most people. Minho thought to leave her stored in a greenhouse butterfly but she belonged to everywhere, every corner that she desired to. As much as it was against his will, he was not the only captive worthy of her special existence. He understood that everything belongs to her, even his heart. He could not boot to give it, but could certainly make a drawing with a red pen. He wanted them to be like James and Celine, the reality could be ready to cave in on itself.

Soojung had dreams that looked like encrusted crystals in rocks: live with Minho a good bit of years, paint the faces of their children with their father in a clearing in their first summer in the family, writing as Richard Siken on warm evenings about Minho and his wide shoulders and his pretty chin. She thought of passing her fingers over his lips and swallow all his traumas. She thought of crushing all the anxiety with panic afflicting her, talk about their feelings of this time.

"I wanted to have money to buy an entire constellation in its name." It was no surprise that all of them were on the roof of the mouth of Minho.

He could visualize her in TV commercials and magazine covers, proving weird clothes with oddest poses. Minho felt that someone would soon rob Soojung of him. She was becoming a woman. With deep eyes, with secrets that he did not understand. He kept all his affection in his chest - the design of his heart was in the drawer. It was a night of drinking and wet eyes, just because he could not have her. And who can have a woman? No one. They were not ready. And accepting a destination that sounded like karma, he hid his pain and waited. She liked the lights, the rigid colors. Her mother had old debts. He opened the cage, and the bird continued singing there.

She sees Minho complaining to the sky. And what to do about a man that is really in love? She sat beside him and put his hands on his - weaving and darting into space. It's like running out of the air the whole time. And those secrets that they keep under the carpet, with bad omens, afraid - is gone. Minho is ugly half crying. He looks so vulnerable. That's why she holds his face and leans her lips and he tastes like soju and miss. "All right, Minho. I think you understand now. "

_(She likes to feel his eyes on her when she is looking away.)_

**Author's Note:**

> I am a delusion angel  
> I am a fantasy parade


End file.
